


In Dreams

by aDOTkeim



Category: Supernatural
Genre: And first try at porn, Blow Jobs, Destiel - Freeform, First Time, M/M, My First Work in This Fandom, Season 8, au-ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-03
Updated: 2013-06-03
Packaged: 2017-12-13 20:55:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/828787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aDOTkeim/pseuds/aDOTkeim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is experiencing gaps in his memory; he's losing time, and with the overwhelming feeling that time is running out, he turns to Dean for that one piece of humanity that he has yet to experience or understand...human touch. He goes to Dean, determined to find solace, though he's not sure how Dean will react. Though he's scared of what's to come, the only safe haven he feels he has left is inside Dean's head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Dreams

Dean could tell he was dreaming…the colors were off, hazy. The light from the bathroom in the hotel was creeping through the nearly closed door, messing with his vision. But there was a charge in the air, frenzied with a kind of electricity that he couldn't quite put his finger on. He wasn't alone.

He slowly lifted his head from the pillow to find Castiel, sitting in a chair beside the bed. He felt his presence before he saw him; he was just about to tell Cas again how creepy it was to watch a dude while he was sleeping, but when he turned to look at him, Cas had a pensive, worried look on his face. Though not unusual for the angel, it still bothered Dean. He didn't like it when Cas looked like that.

“Cas?” he whispered.

“Hello, Dean,” he replied.

“What are you doing here? I’m dreaming…right?” he asked the angel.

“You are.”

“What’s this all about, Cas?” he huffed. He felt exhausted, even in his dreams. The angel simply stared, looking into his eyes like he could see right through him. Like he was trying to find words that weren't coming. Finally, the angel took a breath and turned his head, and Dean sighed. He knew something was off, something that has been off since Castiel miraculously escaped Purgatory. He even went as far as to talk to Sam about it. He didn't like not knowing what it was. It ate at him in his waking life, wanting to help his friend, his angel, his whatever he was to Dean. Dean wasn't sure anymore if there was a label to describe his relationship with Castiel. But he knew he didn't like the feeling he had in his gut that something was really, really wrong. Maybe it’s from past experiences, knowing the other shoe will always drop in his life, and it’s never, ever a good thing.

“Dean, I feel there is something I must share with you,” he started.

“Yeah, well spit it out, Cas,” he countered. “We don’t have all day.” As he got up to move around the edge of the bed closest to him, Dean tucked his head toward Castiel’s lowered gaze, trying to get his attention. The angel lifted his head once more, blue eyes meeting green. ”You okay?”

“No, I’m not okay, Dean,” he whispered. “In fact, I cant shake the feeling that…that time may be running out.”

“What does that mean? Time may be running out? Explain it to me, like I’m five,” he chucked lightly. He tried to lighten the moment, though the ominous feeling he was getting from Cas was damn near making the little hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

“I’m losing time.”

“What?”

“Losing time. I cannot recall where I went after I left you and Sam that night, with Samandriel. I remember speaking with you and your brother, and then suddenly I was in the park, sitting on the bench, alone. I don’t remember transporting myself to that place, Dean.”

“Well, you were pretty messed up, Cas. I think all that angel graffiti on the walls at that warehouse messed you up pretty good. Has this happened before?”

Castiel knew that it had. There had been several instances recently where, not only had he lost time, but he had ended up in places where he wasn't sure how he’d ended up there. It was unnerving for an angel to not be fully aware of all that was around him. He knew all this, yet he didn't want to burden his friend with his problems after all he’d put Dean through in the last year. And he didn't want to tell him how hard it was to let go of him, to stay in Purgatory while he went home. He didn't want to tell him how it was the hardest thing he’s ever had to do. So he lied.

“No…I don’t believe so,” he finally said.

“Well me and Sam, we’ll figure it out, okay? We’ll fix it,” Dean confided.

“Yes, I suppose so.” Castiel nodded in Dean’s direction, and Dean returned the sentiment, taking a small breath of relief. Dean had already determined Castiel was he and Sam’s next “case”, that they were going to figure out who was fucking with their friend, their brother in arms. His angel. But he didn't want to tell Cas about it, not yet.

They sat there in comfortable silence for a while. Dean wondered why he wasn't waking up. Hell, he wondered why he was dreaming this shit in the first place. It didn't make any sense. Usually, the only times Cas popped into his dreams was if he couldn't reach him physically. Or when Dean was having one of those nightmares about him, again. He shuddered at the flash of memory that swept over him of the last nightmare he had, Cas walking into that river and never walking back out, only leaving behind his trench coat. Over and over again. It played in his mind like a recording on a loop, each time not being able to move or do anything to stop it. When he woke, Castiel’s name was on his lips, but he literally choked on it. He didn't want Sam to hear, he rationalized. That was why he had to bite his tongue to keep from screaming the angel’s name.

Castiel startled Dean when he spoke again, his voice sounding raw and exposed.

“Dean, may I ask you something?”

“Go for it,” Dean answered.

Castiel sat silently for another moment. Before he spoke again, he got up from the chair and made the tiny step straight forward into Dean’s personal space, Castiel’s knees slightly brushing against Dean’s for a slit second before he took a small step back. Dean’s breath hitched at the small bit of contact. What the hell?

 

“If it were your last night on Earth, what would you do?” he finally asked.

Dean’s thoughts went immediately to Sam, but then to Castiel, and he pushed the errant thought away just as quickly as it came. Keep it together, Winchester, he thought to himself.

“I don’t know… I guess I would get drunk, get laid, you know.... party like it’s 1999,” he joked. Though he wondered if Cas would even understand that reference. Maybe the angels weren't all that concerned about learning 80’s pop music.

Dean was pulled out of his inner thoughts by the shift of the angel in front of him, Castiel bending down to settle on his knees, right in front of Dean. Castiel then placed his hands gently on Dean’s knees before he whispered softly, “By getting laid, do you mean... sex?”

Dean stopped, mouth instantly dry, and swallowed thickly. He didn't know where Cas was going with this, but he'd been around the block enough to know an invitation when he heard one. Never mind the fact that it was coming from a dude. Or an angel. Or From Cas, for fuck's sake. He looked straight into Castiel’s eyes, nodding slowly. He didn't trust his own voice at that particular moment.

“Shall we pretend it’s your last night on Earth, then?” Castiel whispered coyly-so uncharacteristic of the angel- leaning into Dean until their noses were almost touching. Cas’s breath fanned in Dean’s face, shaky with want. “I would like to try something.”

Dean’s breath came out in a whoosh, his body strung so tight he thought he might pass the fuck out from it. He was light-headed and his legs were burning, a flash of heat at the point of contact. Castiel’s hands didn't waver; the lightest brush of Castiel’s hands could be felt moving further up his legs, stopping at his thighs. Dean wanted to look down, to break the connection, but he couldn't take his eyes away from the angel in front of him.

Then, Castiel closed the tiny space between them, his lips brushing against Dean’s.

It was soft… a simple brush of lips, dry but warm. The feel of Castiel’s mouth on his, even for the slightest moment, sent waves of want straight to Dean’s cock. Dean could feel the heat now between them, and it was too much. Dean needed a second, a minute to get what was happening. He needed-he needed to stop before things got out of control. So he broke the kiss, though reluctantly, and pushed against Castiel. The angel looked a bit forlorn as he did, but looked him dead in the eye, tilting his head to the left slightly. Like Dean was a puzzle he was trying to solve. Dean knew that look, and shivered at the possibility of what it meant.

 

"Whoa, Cas. What the hell?" Dean asked.

 

"Dean..." Castiel whispered. "My apologies. My interest in humanity has me feeling....strange. I feel like there's only one thing left for me to experience."

 

Dean’s mind was going a mile a minute. What the hell was happening here? Thinking of Cas in this way was blinding sometimes, and Dean had always pushed any feelings he had about Cas to the back of his mind. There was always a case to solve, a monster to kill, or and innocent (or a brother) to save. There was always the family business to distract him. But here, in this moment of a vivid dream, there was no way of avoiding this. And somewhere in his mind’s mind he thought, fuck it…it’s a dream right? What’s the harm in letting go? So before he lost his nerve, Dean grabbed the back of Castiel’s neck, smashing the angel’s mouth with his.

 

The next moments came to Dean in flashes of sensation; the feel of Castiel’s skin under his fingers, the taste of his mouth, the way it was so intense and not enough, all at once. They continued with their frantic kissing for a few moments, Dean plunging his tongue into Cas’s mouth, wanting to crawl inside this feeling and never come out. Dean squeezed the back of Castiel’s neck, wanting to draw him in closer. Castiel caught on quickly, sliding his tongue along Dean’s lower lip, making Dean shiver with desperation. He wanted more but didn't know how to ask it. He wanted Cas, he knew that now without uncertainty. He would just have to show him just how much.

Castiel broke away first, panting. His eyes never left Dean’s, and it made Dean dizzy.

“Dean,” he murmured.

“Cas, I-“

“Don’t. Dean, let me do this for you. Let me. Can I…” Castiel paused, the uncharacteristic blush fluttering his cheeks. He muttered, “I want this. I want to touch you, I want to taste. I want to show you. Please."

Dean bit back a groan as he nodded again, unable to put into words just how fucking much he wanted Cas to do just that.

 

Their lips joined together again, this time softer and slower, lips tangling and tongues tasting, reveling in the feel of their bodies instinctively gravitating toward one another. But then Castiel began to slowly undo the buttons of Dean’s shirt, one by one, and with each one Dean’s breath became more erratic. He couldn't wait to feel Castiel touching him, now that this had started. There was no going back, and nothing short of another apocalypse was going to stop it. Cas slowly pulled the fabric off of Dean’s strong shoulders, goosebumps appearing all over his skin. Castiel moved from Dean’s mouth then, slowly running his lips along Dean’s neck, his collarbone. He traveled down to Dean’s broad chest, seizing every opportunity to place little nibbles on his skin here and there, basking in the taste. Dean was full on groaning now, unable to keep quiet as he felt Cas licking and kissing him all over. He couldn't describe the feeling of pure emotion that felt like it was coming out of his pores… as if Castiel could just taste him anywhere and know.

 

Castiel never wavered, continuing to run his mouth down Dean’s body until he came to a stop below his navel, hands moving to the elastic of the track pants he was wearing.

He glanced up to find Dean staring at him in awe, a tear sliding slowly down his cheek.

“Cas.”

“Dean.”

“Cas, please.”

Castiel nodded, licking his lips as he began to pull on the fabric, Dean helping him shimmy out of the pants, taking his boxers with them. The cool air hit Dean’s skin, the sensations making him weak. Castiel tossed the garments over his head, landing somewhere behind him. Dean chuckled nervously.

Castiel looked up at Dean once again as he whispered his name, and Cas reached up to touch Dean’s face, cradling his jaw gently. Reverently.

“So beautiful,” Cas muttered.

“Cas, do it. Please, just...damn it. Touch me. Please,” Dean whimpered.

 

Cas relented, slowly gliding his hands down Dean’s muscular thighs. Dean hissed at the contact, his hips jerking involuntarily in response. Cas’s fingers were soft, caressing every inch of flesh that he could, trying to draw out the way he was making Dean feel. He could see it in Dean’s eyes, the way he was breathing. He knew every single little nuance that defined Dean Winchester. Castiel had silently watched him for years, as his assignment on Earth. He watched him grow up, too fast it seemed, watched him as he took care of Sam after his mother was killed. It was Dean that made the angel see humanity in a different way; he looked at him and knew the man just as well as he knew himself. But seeing him here, laid bare and exposed for him, made him desperate to get even closer...to get inside and never come out. Ever.

“Fuck, Cas,” Dean grunted, canting his hips up again. The action caused Castiel’s fingers to brush against the shaft of Dean’s cock, and Dean swore again, almost ready to come just from that little bit of contact.

Cas wrapped his long fingers around Dean’s thick cock, already leaking from the tip. Dean let out a harsh moan, tilting his head back and falling backward until he was lying on the bed, legs spread wide enough for Cas to settle between them. Dean’s eyes closed as he panted through the sensations, feeling like he was about to burst from need.

When Castiel’s mouth ghosted around the head of Dean’s cock, the feeling of his breath on him in the most intimate of ways almost ended him.

He couldn't wait another second.

“Fuck, Cas. Do it. Please fucking do it. Please.”

Castiel took Dean in his mouth slowly at first, lips tentatively sliding over the head, tongue slowly licking down the shaft. It was foreign to him, this feeling of Dean's thick cock weighing on his tongue...but not unwelcome. Dean was grunting, trying to hold back, trying not to thrust into Cas's hot, wet mouth. He wasn't going to last long, even in his dream. Imagine that, he thought absently. But then Cas opened wide and took all of Dean into his mouth in one fast movement, his nose touching the dark curls surrounding Dean’s cock.

“God...yes,” Dean whined, his back arching off the bed as Cas slowly made his way back up to the head, teasing it with his tongue.

“So beautiful when you’re like this, Dean,” Cas whispered. “So beautiful.”

“So good, Cas. God, so good,” he breathed.

 

Castiel settled into a slow rhythm, working his mouth up and down Dean’s cock, swirling his tongue when he got to the tip, then swallowing at the feeling of Dean at the back of his throat. Dean was moaning Cas’s name, over and over, raising his hand to grip the back of Castiel’s head. Guiding him. For what felt like hours, Cas sucked him, Dean becoming more undone with each slide of Cas’s mouth until he felt the heat pooling inside him, his release imminent. He was spouting nonsense, words not even decipherable, but he knew that Cas understood.

 

“Cas, I’m gonna…oh God, Cas. Cas.”

 

Dean saw white behind his eyelids as he came, filling Castiel’s mouth with it, holding Dean’s hips steady as he swallowed it all down. Dean continued to cry out, his cock suddenly sensitive to the slightest touch, and Castiel grinned. He released Dean from his mouth slowly with a final kiss to the head, and raised up to lie on the bed beside him. Dean didn't want to move, couldn't move, so he laid still as Cas climbed on the bed with him, curling around Dean like a blanket. Dean sighed, wrapping his arm around his angel and pulling him close. The room was silent except for the sound of their breathing.

“Cas?” Dean asked, a few moments later.

“Hmm?”

“That was…” Dean stumbled, “I mean, it never felt like that before.” Castiel saw tears forming in Dean’s eyes, and he began to panic.

“What did it feel like before? Did I do something wrong?” Castiel asked, worry in his voice.

“No! No, it was…well it was pretty, well, perfect. I’m just saying, I mean…it was pretty fucking intense, you know?”

“Yes, it was.”

“Cas?”

“Yes, Dean?”

“Will you, I don’t know," he flushed, not for the first time since this dream began. "Will you stay? Will you stay with me?”

“Of course,” Castiel answered, smiling.

“Good.”

“Good.” Cas repeated.

They scooted up to the top of the bed, Dean laying his head on the bunched up pillows. He reached for Cas and he obeyed, falling slowly into Dean’s arms as he rested his head on Dean’s chest. Their breathing finally evened out, and the quiet of the room filled their ears as Dean drifted off to sleep. Castiel idly ran his fingers up and down his chest as he watched over him. Watching over Dean was Castiel's favorite part of being an angel, and one of the many things he would miss when he was gone. That ominous feeling was back again, this time rolling off of Castiel in waves as Dean drifted off to sleep. Castiel hoped this feeling was wrong, that the days and months to come weren't bound to end in tragedy.

 

Dean woke from his dream with a start, jumping up from the bed in a panic. Before his eyes could adjust, he reached over to the other side of the bed, feeling nothing but the cold sheets. He sighed sadly, lying back on the pillows. He was about to drift back to sleep when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye.

Castiel sat in the chair by the bed, a pensive look on his face.

"Hello, Dean."


End file.
